Here and There

My front tire keeps going down. Very slowly, but down it does go. Doesn't appear to have a puncture, so is this due to elevation? And yet the rear tire doesn't lose air nearly as rapidly. I need a new pump. The one I have sucks. Well, blows actually, but you know what I mean. It might as well suck, I guess is what I mean. I don't think you should have to pause to take your pulse when airing up a dang bicycle tire, y'know?

It is a few days past our one-year anniversary in Albuquerque. On April 1st of last year we were installing our humble belongings into our first apartment and basking in the awesomeness of a desert southwest Spring, listening to the cooing of doves as they worked to dissolve the roof of our building with their caustic leavings, delighting in the thrilling zing! at each touch of every light switch or doorknob, marveling at the work involved in drawing a proper lungful of air. Good times, made all the better by our decision to remain married after three days on the road in a U-Haul truck. Wouldn't change a thing.

So, after a full year, some impressions:

Good Gawdz, have I missed thunderstorms! More, please! (I understand if others don't share my enthusiasm).

You can keep the snow, though. Preferably in the sky. Thanks.

I feel empowered in pumping my own fuel. Empowered, I say!

“Yes, this round thing tells your car where to go, and this pedal lets you go as fast as you want and we think you should press it allll the way down! And the other one...wait, let's look that one up in the manual...”

Aw man! Where's Doonesbury?

Excuse me, sir? SIR?? Your stereo is knocking paint off my car!

That casino off of Tramway takes on an ominous, Death Star-like quality when you drive toward it for ten minutes and it doesn't seem to get any closer.

I've seen more wildlife here than in the last twenty years. That rocks. I'll consider coyotes crossing my path a good omen until I'm proven wrong.

Why do so many New Mexico residents on city-data.com seem so grumpy and ready to leave? Fine. Leaves more room for all the Minnesotans who're ready to move in. Can you blame them? Hey, be nice! I'm from Oregon and I'm properly grateful, right?

Tarantulas? Scorpions?? Snakes?? You guys are lying. Or maybe you think you live in the next state over? Haven't seen a one. Damn it.

The Bosque rules. And the Natural History Museum. And the Petroglyphs. And green chili cheeseburgers. Hell, New Mexican cuisine in general! And Spanglish (I have GOT to crack that book and get busy!).

I'm very happy here. I'm happiest when I don't have to drive, but hey, who isn't?

The missus and I went to Tent Rocks National Monument yesterday, to hike the cave loop. It constantly makes me skeptical that the landscapes of the Southwest are anything other than sculpture on the grandest scale. No finer tools than wind and water and time.

We weren't looking for a workout, just a stroll through one of the many wonders of the state. There were a lot of people winding through the park, a few of them from other states. I was rather gratified by that, as I was by the enthusiastic chatter I overheard on the trail. People should embrace the experience of where they are, however far from home they are. When we lived in Portland, we had family members visit us from Texas. We were stoked to show them around, show them the cool city we'd adopted as our home (there were certain of my mate's relatives who were smugly certain that we would return to Texas in a year), but we quickly discovered that the experience was lost on them. Granted, mohawks and piercings are bound to give your average Dallasite pause, but wouldn't you rather embrace the strangeness of a newly discovered place rather than fiddle with your iPod (uh, Walkman; it was a while ago) in the back seat or curl your lip at the clothing choices of passers-by? Stupid. I was glad when they went back home.

When my job ended in Portland, we actually didn't hesitate. We love Portland and always will, but when the opportunity presented itself, we considered our options with enthusiasm. What else would we do? What else would anyone do who truly felt they had a say in their own destiny? My wife, ladies and gentlemen, is the pioneer of the two of us. It was she who got us to Portland, and it was she who swallowed her trepidation (she once went through Albuquerque years before we met, on her way to Boise, and was decidedly unimpressed; speeding through on the interstate is no way to be properly introduced to a city) when I broached the idea of our moving here. That's the sort of brio that inspires and takes me out of myself (even though she eats Fritos while she talks on the phone. Ay-yi-yi). So now we live in Albuquerque, as far from Portland as the Moon in many respects, and we couldn't be happier.

For now. Always in motion is the future.

A very personal note: a friend in Portland has joined a Roller Derby team. Awesome! I've been a fan of Roller Derby ever since “Roller Girls” aired on A&E. You GO, Heidi! I've never been to a bout, but that'll change real soon.

'Kay, that is all.